


'Don't be Afraid'

by fuckmydun



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: F/M, One-Shot, Read with care uvu, Reader has a panic attack, josh/reader if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckmydun/pseuds/fuckmydun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Reader' (You/your/yours[?]) has a panic attack at a Twenty | One | Pilots concert in the back of the pit and Tyler Joseph helps regulate your breathing (after he takes you backstage) and something about that seems sweet to you, that he would hold off an entire concert for YOU and your "irrelevant" problems, as you tell yourself. You have no idea why, but he makes you feel less insignificant, less lonely, less distant... and little do you know, Tyler smiles because of you after weeks of frowning, constant indifference/unresponsiveness on the outside and crippling depression on the inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Don't be Afraid'

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first Tyler Joseph/Reader, and it's a One-Shot... I don't really know what else to say about it, but it's special to me, since a close friend of mine requested it after a panic attack. I hope you enjoy it - if you're sensitive to themes like this, then read with care, I love you all. <3

The concert is loud - exciting. Vibrant in all its true glory. You stand there in person, finding yourself jumping at the music playing from your favourite person in the world: Tyler Joseph. His singing and rapping makes butterflies stir violently in your stomach, which makes your body prone to intense twitching and quivering. The concert is still enjoyable, though you have a seat near the back. You've never enjoyed being caught up in the sudden exuberance of a mosh pit... but it's all in good fun for all fans. You know that. The song playing triggers positive recollection and the fact that Tyler and Josh are on stage in front of you... makes the said reminiscent moment even more perfect. As Tyler calls to the audience, a call and response, you raise your voice with the rest of the crowd bravely. Insecurity soon seeps through and you find people beside you observing your singing form... you're so glad that you have space between all the fans... a giant line down the middle. A divide, almost. You're extremely grateful for the extra space.

The song goes past the second verse, and onto the bridge. Your favourite part. You close your eyes, nodding to the music and tapping your foot gently against floor. It's so easy to get caught up in another world when you're listening to their music... it's a beautiful thing. This is when Tyler snaps you out of your hazy daze, shouting the final word of the bridge, letting the audience repeat it. He races frantically down the isles of people that have come to see him perform (he seems to be looking for something or someone). You glance to Josh, seeing he's become increasingly louder on his drums... he looks less confident on stage now that Tyler has run off, but you don't question it.

You definitely don't.

Not until Tyler turns to you and gestures with his head for you to come back to the stage with him. You shake your head - you're not saying no, but you're completely dumbstruck. Is Tyler Joseph really coaxing you up onto the stage? Tyler? Is this real? You rub your eyes vigorously. Very hard. In front of you stands Tyler, still. He smiles the most beautiful smile and starts to chuckle to himself, saying a quiet 'come on' - it's pitchy, but it's adorable. It makes you simper gingerly, but your reality is questionable (or so you think.) He reaches his hand out and extends his arm to meet you halfway. You gasp involuntarily and you find your hand instinctively pulling back, but the smile that adorns his face is irresistible. It draws you in and you reach your hand forward; in a flash and almost too abruptly for your taste, he drags you towards him and you stumble from the crowds, breaking away from the large mobs of people that scream as Tyler passes them. You stagger after him as he practically jogs back to stage.

You can't be up on stage. You can't be.

Your anxiety has been on halt for as long as Tyler had grinned at you and silently encouraged you to take his hand. But before you could think about the unfamiliar melting away of your stress and how free the latter was, you were on stage. You back up. Slowly. You eye all participants of the concert and there are hundreds upon thousands of fans, all if not most sporting Twenty One Pilots T-shirts and other available merchandise. You thanked the lord (though you didn't think you'd stick out like such a sore thumb here) that you had worn your band hoodie. You didn't look too out of place... and Tyler seemed to adore your style. You'd caught him stare at the familiar hoodie, and then you, eye to eye. You could have sworn his smile got slightly brighter at the sight. You shrunk into yourself, hands hiding in the already huge sleeves of your favourite article of clothing. You felt, though Tyler's happiness comforted you (for many unexplainable reasons,) tears sting at the corners of your sore eyes. 

All these strobe lights, all the noise, your creeping anxiety that threatened to KILL YOU...

It was all becoming too much. The only thing that kept you from sobbing was the music in the background, but even that ended eventually.

Almost complete silence.

And then an applause which BREAKS you into shattered, unfixable shards. You snap like a twig and cry rivulets of tears. They flow almost fluently down your face - it's so familiar for you to feel so broken, but you never get used the feeling of USELESSNESS.

Tyler noticed almost instantly - his smile contorts into an expression of worry and concern. You whimper helplessly, shivering violently... and that's when your eyes widen and your hand is taken in his bigger one. It's black, just for the show... you'd noticed. You always notice the little things he does to make an effort.

Your eyes squeeze shut as he takes you backstage, taking long strides as to not stall any longer. His grip on your hand tightens and he gives your frail hand a reassuring squeeze as to calm you down and help you realize that this is reality and he's really here. To help.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay--" his voice comes out soft and gentle, but it's frantic. "Can you tell me your name?"

You cough multiple times before your able to speak. Your throat is dry beyond belief and you can't find it in you to speak so quietly anymore. "Y-Y/N... p-please, help me--!!!" You speak breathlessly, an almost muted plead for help being muffled by the sleeves of your hoodie that are brought to shield your reddening face. 

"Alright, alright, I've got you. Y/N, I need you to breathe." He states, taking a careful seat beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder caringly, slowly. You freeze for a moment, but you suddenly grow accustomed to the new presence. The one you'd always wished for. "Hey, copy me." He says soothingly - you'd be lying if you said it didn't relax you from your panic attack a little bit. He inhales for around seven seconds until he can't anymore. He hums briefly to get you to obey and you do. You inhale deeply and you take as much air in as you possibly can. It takes you a few attempts to really copy him, all while Tyler rubs circles onto your back through your favourite hoodie. They're so comforting, you feel part of yourself drop slack. He's been holding his breath for you to catch up with him... how sweet. He exhales, letting his cheeks puff out as he does. He makes it last - seven seconds he spends exhaling deeply. His expectant glance is cast upon you and you immediately know what to do. You mimic the action successfully, and within time, breaths soon get less sharp and more controlled.

This is when Josh runs behind stage (or more like staggers from his set.)

He finds Tyler helping you - regulating your breathing pattern, and he smiles halfheartedly, knowing your pain. He knows exactly what drew you to cry and so he kneels next to your breathing form. He joins Tyler in breathing gently, breaths less gentle than Tyler's. Heavier this time, Josh sighs, seeing you've calmed down. He grabs both of your hands, about to speak when Tyler raises his voice first. Josh is patient. He'll wait.

"Y/N... that was pretty bad, huh?" He asks quietly, in an almost-whisper. You frown, staring at the floor, listening to his voice. You're no longer so stiff, sat next to him.

"I-It's not the... worst one I've had..." You stutter, breath hitching a few times in attempt to catch up with your breath. Tyler pats your back, encouraging you to take your time. He's here and he's staying until you're better - he's made that clear, with all his sincere glances and genuine smiles. He lets a small, yet audible 'pfft' pass his lips in disbelief. He can only imagine what your worst panic attack looks like. He seethes, trying to understand; he feels he has enough experience with the right encounters to feel and know the same emotions. It's a messy mix of anxiety, hopelessness, depression and alert... he winces. He feels is head pulsing as he processes the information.

"Must be pretty rough..." He's, by now, dropped an octave and become very aware of his mistake. You seemed so... excited to have had him grab your hand and smile so widely at you. Heck, you even seemed easy to run after him when he dragged you along. He grunts, angry that he didn't see the panic in your eyes like he does now... but he can't bring himself to stay so mad.

He's made mistakes before and none of them define him. He makes it his job to apologise, nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I thought... you were alright with coming on stage," he confesses, head hung in some kind of shame he's covered himself in. Josh glares at that. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault here. He quickly tells Tyler not to 'be so hard on himself' and Tyler quickly agrees, shaking the thoughts away. "I didn't know you were so... afraid."

At that, Josh pats his back and utters a short 'you're alright, man' before averting much-needed attention to Y/N. Hands give smaller ones a calming squeeze and your gaze only becomes more serious and solemn. Josh smiles wider to you, baring teeth in a sincere fashion. His stare gives you confidence that he'll help you get to where you need to be.

But you can't help but wonder - did you ruin the show by stopping it so short with your pathetic attitude and fears?

"Josh, y-you have t-" You get cut off by a soothing 'shh' which is technically whispered to you. You feel your joints loosen up and everything that was once stirring in your stomach seemed to still to your delight. Or what little delight you could bring yourself to feel, anyway... you felt a tingle of happiness, so it must be a good thing, you deduce.

"Listen, don't worry about the show, yeah? I'm here for YOU," He admits, unabashed. He looks to the floor, red-faced at the many compliments he could fire your way. You have such a dazzling smile... but he can't allow himself to be blinded when he has a job to do. He blinks hastily and speaks louder to you, head still hung. "Sometimes, we just need time, alright, Y/N?" He asks, waiting for you to respond and register his sentences. He realizes that your reactions are somewhat... reluctant. Like you're scared to say something... but your nod is enough to convince him that you're taking what he says in. He holds onto you tighter, shaking his head. "There's nothing wrong with takin' a little time to relax." He chimes, glancing up to take your expression in.

A smile. That's a good sign.

"Thanks," You say kindheartedly. "I... I needed that." And with that, your smile tugs the corners of your mouth even further up. You flash a toothy grin at him and he blushes subtly. You hardly notice...

but you did.

"I mean, you're welcome." Josh answers sheepishly, a little laugh seeping through plush lips, pitchier than he intended it to be. "So, how's relaxing feel right now?" He asks, a smug smirk making its way onto his face as he sits at the opposite end to Tyler. Tyler makes a small 'tch' noise at this; you must look like such a strange bunch, sandwiched together the way you all are. You giggle at their tenderness - it's definitely appealing to you. You find it adorable: You find yourself close to admitting it. You're getting more comfortable in their presence. Any silence is now comfortable between you all and its usually all reciprocated, appreciated.

"Relaxing? I'm barely relaxing sat next to you two," you chuckle lightly, eyes closing in a happy manner as you pull on your long sleeves. "But as far as sitting with you guys goes, relaxing... it's pretty good." Tyler looks to Josh and they return your smiles sweetly.

"It's the best cure for stage-fright." Josh says.

"I feel better now." You utter, confident. "Thank you so much: Tyler. Josh." You pull Tyler closer, as his arm is already around you from the previous encounter and you grip Josh' hand tighter - but no gesture you execute is enough to damage him. He grins at your benevolence - you're so gentle and kind-hearted. He briefly wonders if your heart may be too big for your body. Tyler, secretly, is thinking the same thing. They utter quick 'you're welcome's' as they step towards the curtain just before the stage.

"Um... Y/N..." Tyler begins nervously. "Come on stage with me?" He asks and you fall silent. You don't move, you don't speak, you are even convinced that you hold your breath in the moment of indecisiveness. You look at the floor, letting thoughts run through your head - you let them mix with irrelevant thoughts and answers come quicker than before.

"I... I don't know, Tyler..." You stutter. "What if I break down again? I'll ruin everything..." you whisper. Though you sound pained and fearful, you know there's always a time to face your fears, but you wish you didn't acknowledge it...

"Please...?" He asks only this of you. Eyes remain surveying the crowd outside and they occasionally flit back to your still figure, which he turns his full attention to when he sees the crowd has hyped out. They seem... concerned, almost. He's proud, in a way - his community cares so much; it's everything he wants it to be.

Josh rubs your back, pats it once and returns to stage. Talk about encouragement. Just a small tap has given you so much drive to go after him, onto stage. You don't want to be alone... you want to stay with them. They made you feel like you had purpose once again and that, to you especially, is extremely important to you. You see him nod before he disappears completely and announces to the crowd what happened behind the curtains. You heart skips a beat, but you feel the adrenaline moving your legs, which take you forward in Tyler's direction. You stand beside him, frightened, but ready.

Tyler sees your fright - but worst of all, he sees another entity behind your clouded eyes. It reminds him of his own insecurities and his own personal message. They bring him down so often that he feels the need to... eliminate. Rage fills him, despite his calmer exterior. He brushes your fingers with his own and hooks them to your's. Your lashes block any eye contact and you blush a bright scarlet - you wait... hold your breath. Let's see what happens. He takes your hand in his fully and laces your fingers together, looking out of the curtain to the stage. He refuses to look into your eyes so abashed and flushed. His face is the exact definition of beetroot red... but little do you know, out of your view, he smiles. Simpers. BEAMS. His thumb rubs comforting circles into your hand as he leads you forward onto the stage. You turn skittish, restive. You whimper lightly and hold Tyler's hand tighter. He looks immediately for any sign of tears, but there are none, despite your eyes, which are screwed shut. He gets on his knees and whispers to you: "you can open your eyes. They care. I care."

You open your eyes. You trust him.

You shuffle on your feet nervously, looking down to both your's and Tyler's hands, which are connected. It fills your stomach with butterflies, but... they feel better than the sickening churning you feel in your stomach when you look at the crowd. Occasionally, you avert your attention from your laced fingers to the crowd. It becomes easier the more time you do it, and soon enough, your head is raised.

"So, if you didn't hear Josh: Y/N, here, just had a panic attack." He informs and the crowd looks compassionate. Sympathetic to say the least. "So, I want you all to make her feel at home on the stage, alright? I want everybody to sing with me." He smiles, looking down to you with such solace in his chocolate-hued eyes.

Taxi Cab starts playing.

The most beautiful words flow from Tyler's mouth with such an unrealistic perfection, you have to gasp to realize that you're holding your breath. You exhale sharply and you feel a smile tug at your lips. A phantasmagorical imaginative scene is panning out before you... and you just can't believe it.

"I said, don't be afraid...  
I said, don't be afraid,  
We're going home."

You mouth the final words, feeling your throat close up on you. You're not scared, but you're stuck on what to do. You cry... but you smile. Beam happily to the crowd and sing with them. You feel complete. You have everything you want and more. You're so fantastically lucky.

The song ends and the final notes that Tyler hits send you into a sobbing mess. You throw your arms over his shoulders - he's not too much taller than you. The crowd goes wild and screams and claps for you. Some chant your name and others reach out from the audience to you. You are utterly dumbstruck.

"Thank you..." you whisper with such a genuinity to Tyler again and you see Josh smile at you. He walks over to the two of you, wrapping bigger arms around you and Tyler both. You're stunned, but you grin all the while.

"No need to thank me," Tyler says lowly in your ear, subtly kissing the shell of your ear. You only hear the sound of lips against your ear and you flush heavily. You let a stutter surpass your lips as he continues. "You can do that at our next show." He confirms, holding you closer. Tighter. Securely.

You feel safe. You're not afraid anymore.


End file.
